


Apollo

by KissTheBoy7



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: And angst, Fluffity fluff fluff FLUFF, M/M, but mostly just R being hopelessly in love, mcfluffernutters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissTheBoy7/pseuds/KissTheBoy7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire reflects upon his sorry life and his happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apollo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onelessvariation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onelessvariation/gifts).



> Hrmm. So I wrote this as a literature poetry assignment in creative writing, but I thought of Elizabeth while I wrote it, so I thought it would be appropriate to gift it to her. The first non-sexual thing I've posted for this pairing, too! On a roll. Yep. Uh. Enjoy?

**Apollo**

 

Death is sweet;

Sweeter than the wine on his breath

As Enjolras grasps his wrist with scalding fingers-

“Put that bottle down.”

 

He doesn’t put it down.

Not that day or the next

Or the next or the next.

And it went on that way for years,

Four of them spent following a god on earth,

Preaching revolution

While the drunkard stumbles along behind him

A mongrel, unwanted,

Relentless in his affections.

 

He doesn’t see a world about to dawn,

Only his world:

And his world is Enjolras.

 

There’s something in the way that he moves;

The way he speaks;

Passion dripping red like blood from perfect lips,

Blue fire in the depths of his eyes.

 

He’s never had a world to live in before.

Forever alone and always unhappy.

The horizon is always dark-

Always was, anyways,

Until one fateful night in a café.

 

Grantaire is happy to follow him wherever he goes-

Even to death,

And he does so now without remorse

That hand clasped tightly with his-

 

So.

 _This_  is heaven.

 

Grantaire thinks to himself:

There’s nothing sweeter than the taste of revolution,

Because it comes from Enjolras’ lips

And he longs to kiss them

Has always longed to

But he’ll settle for watching them as they dance to revolution,

To freedom,

Tongue darting to wet them,

Pink and red and all of the colors of love.

 

And if death is revolution, then

Death is sweet.

Sweet as the end of time,

And the beginning of a hazy dream he’s been dreaming his whole life.

 

Enjolras:

His golden god,

His sun,

Blinding him with dazzling perfection-

 

Not Apollo, he’s protested time and again-

He’s only a man, only a mortal.

A god is not fit to lead the people.

So to Grantaire he is a king,

And he himself a loyal subject.

 

“Do you permit it?”

He asks, and with eyes dark and blood matted in golden curls

He nods,

He takes his hand.

 

They face the revolution, together.

 

And so it’s fitting that he takes his place

A place he never thought he’d see,

Not in all his mortal life.

 

Beside him,

Beside  _Apollo,_

In the kingdom of heaven.


End file.
